


Come Back to Me

by hyperion



Category: Inception (2010)
Genre: Angsty Schmoop, M/M, Marriage Proposal
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:37:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,062
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyperion/pseuds/hyperion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The PASIV's been compromised.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Come Back to Me

**Author's Note:**

> **Lovely art** by [](http://uncafe.livejournal.com/profile)[](http://uncafe.livejournal.com/)**uncafe**  
> 

Yusuf had hand-mixed the sleeping formula last night. It was a light but long-acting concoction that was designed to allow the sleeper to wake up but fall back to sleep quickly again. Falling asleep again might not be a huge help to the team, but an easy wake-up would hopefully prevent anyone from falling into limbo for a few decades. They had tested it without the PASIV and had great results, and Yusuf had made another batch to test with the PASIV today.

It was Eames’ turn to be the guinea pig. As soon as Eames was under, Yusuf muttered, “This isn’t right,” while examining the line running from Eames’ wrist to the PASIV.

“What’s wrong?” Dom asked.

“It shouldn’t be this color,” Yusuf replied, gesturing to the grayish liquid in the line.

“What does that mean?” Dom asked, growing anxious.

Arthur did not wait for an answer. He immediately pulled the IV from Eames’ wrist. “We need to get out of here.” He slapped Eames hard. “Wake up!” Eames mumbled briefly and his head lolled to the other side. “Dom, we have to wake him up and get everything out of here now.”

“Yusuf, Ariadne, pack up. Destroy anything that can’t be carried.” When they both stared at him, Dom shouted, “Someone knows that we’re here doing a job. You have five minutes to get what you need and burn the rest.” He packed up Arthur’s laptop and notebooks, pulled print-outs off the whiteboard, and wiped the board clean.

Yusuf was now packing up the PASIV, pausing to remove the chemicals inside and seal them for testing later. He dodged out of the way when Arthur tipped Eames’ chair over, attempting a kick. “Take this,” Cobb said to Yusuf, handing the laptop case full of Arthur’s stuff to the chemist. Then Cobb knelt beside Arthur and Eames.

“You have to help me get him up. I won’t be able to carry him down the stairs by myself,” Arthur said a little too calmly.

“Look at me,” Cobb said, putting a hand on Arthur’s shoulder, giving a little shake when Arthur just stared down at Eames. “Look at me. He’ll be okay.” He looked around the room, seeing that Yusuf was finished and Ariadne was watching her models burn in a trashcan. “All right, let’s go, everybody.”

He and Arthur put a shoulder beneath Eames’ arms and hauled him up so that they could move him. They managed to get him down the stairs and outside together, where Dom and Ariadne hailed taxis. Yusuf and Ariadne left together, Dom directing them to fly out of the country tonight. Then he helped Arthur load Eames into the backseat of their taxi. When the driver looked like he might kick them out, Dom handed him all the money in his pocket. “Take us to a hotel, any hotel you like, and forget about us.”

Arthur had his arms around Eames, whispering, “Come back to me, come back to me,” ceaselessly into Eames’ ear. He only stopped whispering when they pulled up to the hotel. It took some sound negotiations, but they were able to get into a hotel room with promises of absolute secrecy.

Dom immediately called the only person he thought could help: “Saito. I need a doctor.”

Saito managed to get a doctor to their hotel room in ten minutes, bless him. Yusuf called within the hour, giving the doctor the exact chemicals that had been added to his formula. Eames received two injections and Arthur was given assurance that he’d come around soon. Dom left them for his room.

Arthur began undressing Eames to make him more comfortable as he slept. According to the doctor, Eames had not received a damaging dose of the poison because Arthur had pulled the IV so quickly, and now they just needed to wait for the antidote to do its job. “Come back to me,” Arthur whispered into his ear, holding his hand.

“Would you shut up?” Eames eventually croaked. “I’m tired.”

“Eames!” Arthur cried, reaching for him. He kissed him hard. “I was so worried. I thought you were…I thought…Eames.” And he kissed him again.

“Where are we?” Eames asked. “What got you so worked up?”

Arthur hardly knew where to begin. He got everything out, though he was sure he was so shaken up that he mixed a few details up. “And what the hell kind of greeting is ‘Would you shut up?’ anyway? I was going to propose to you, but now…”

Eames looked like his brain was a little muddled from the poison/sleeping drug combination. “Propose?”

“Yeah, propose. I promised myself that if you ever woke up, I’d ask you to marry me.”

“Yes!” Eames said, sitting up to get level to Arthur, but clutching his head as the movement made him dizzy.

“That wasn’t the proposal.”

“But I’m saying ‘yes’ anyway.”

Arthur huffed. “No. You can’t say ‘yes’ because I haven’t asked. I was going to make it romantic. I was going to take you away from all of this, take you on vacation, get you liquored up enough that you’d agree, and then we’d have a charming little story to tell the grandchildren about that time we got drunk in Madrid or something and woke up the next morning hung over and married.”

“But I’m agreeing now,” Eames argued. “Look, you’ve got me here, freshly awoken from an attempt on my life, basking in your deranged concept of romance, and I’m telling you that I will absolutely marry you, you don’t even have to ask.”

Arthur sighed in acceptance. “Can we at least tell everyone in our families that I got you drunk in Madrid?”

“Well, I think our real story is at least as romantic as the one you dreamed up, but if you really want to, you can take me out any time you’d like and get me drunk. I just want to at least remember our wedding. And my mother has to be there. She’d die if she missed it, and she’d haunt you if you were the reason she missed it.”

Arthur caressed Eames’ face, just happy that he could look into Eames’ eyes again. “Eames, when we track down the son of a bitch that did this to you and finish this operation if it’s salvageable, will you marry me?”

“Yes.”

[](http://smg.photobucket.com/albums/v606/mdrober1/?action=view&current=ctm2.png)   



End file.
